CW: bimbofication, corruption, transformation, breast expansion, ass expansion, femsub, personality erasure, corporate greed,
Hi hi. Two things flowed together
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Angelika had never been the kind of person who bought novelty drinks.
She preferred a black coffee in the morning, mineral water during the day, maybe a glass of wine in the evening if the week had been particularly long.
Which was why the bright pink bottle sitting in her hand made no sense at all.
She turned it slightly, watching the liquid inside catch the light. Tiny bubbles clung to the glass, rising lazily to the surface in a way that seemed almost playful. The label was just as strange. 'Pink Think Drink', written in looping, cheerful letters that felt at odds with her usual tastes.
"I don't even remember buying this," she muttered.
But she must have.
It was already open. And half empty.
Angelika frowned faintly, trying to recall when exactly she had taken the first sip. The memory felt slippery, like something she had just missed. One moment she had been going about her evening, the next —
A soft giggle escaped her lips.
She froze.
That wasn't like her.
Her hand rose instinctively, brushing lightly against her mouth as if she could catch the sound before it fully existed. Her lips felt strange, puffy and plump.
She shook her head.
'You're imagining things,' she told herself firmly. 'It's just a drink.'
Her eyes drifted back to the bottle.
The color seemed brighter now. More inviting. The bubbles inside moved in a way that was almost mesmerizing, rising and popping with a soft, rhythmic consistency.
Her grip tightened slightly.
'It did taste good,' she admitted, the thought slipping in before she could stop it.
Light. Sweet. Almost ticklish.
Another quiet giggle bubbled up, softer this time, as if it had been waiting.
Angelika pressed her lips together, trying to regain control of herself. "This is ridiculous," she said under her breath, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.
She was a serious woman. A smart woman. She didn't sit around giggling for no reason. She didn't giggle at all.
And yet, despite that certainty, she found herself lifting the bottle again.
Just one more sip.
The liquid slipped down her throat, cool and sparkling, and for a brief moment everything else seemed to soften around the edges.
Her shoulders relaxed.
A brighter, more buoyant feeling spread through her chest.
And before she could stop it, another small, breathy laugh escaped her.
Angelika blinked, her focus slipping just slightly as she looked down at the bottle again.
"Fuzzy," she murmured. Then she giggled. "Like, I meant fizzy."
Her cheeks felt flushed. Her heart was beating a little faster than it had been a moment ago, but it wasn't unpleasant.
In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so light. So silly.
Giggling she shivered, a strange pressure inside her chest grew. She placed her free hand against the soft flesh of her bosom. The skin beneath her blouse and bra tickled.
"I feel all bubbly," Angelika giggled, her breath catching as her nipples began to harden, straining against the silky fabric of her bra. A gentle friction heightened the feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body. "Just like the fuzzy drink."
Again giggles burst through her thick lips. "I like totally mean fizzy," she corrected herself, giggling again.
Gulping she continued drinking, letting her tongue playfully lap up the last remaining droplets. Her pillow-lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle. And she sucked. Squealing happily when her lips popped loose from the glass surface with a loud smacking sound.
A soft, bubbly sigh left her mouth as she set down the bottle. It was completely empty. She ran her fingers along the edge, smiling absently. Everything felt fuzzy. In a nice, tingly, bubbly kind of way.
Her gaze wandered to her reflection in a nearby mirror. She licked the last droplets from her thick lips. They looked far plumper and more pronounced than she remembered them looking earlier that morning.
Angelika stood, a slow smile spreading across her features. Her feet felt unsteady. They demanded to be arched, her weight should be balanced on the front and toes. Her hands reached out to grab the table, but somehow, they missed it, landing on her blouse-covered bosoms instead.
She squeezed her mounds softly. "Ooh, so soft and squishy, "she moaned in a sultry, husky voice, feeling a wave of pleasure course through her body.
Angelika stared at her reflection, watching her hard nipples poke against the fabric of her clothes. The buttons of her blouse strained against seemingly expanding mounds.
Angelika giggled. She couldn't believe what was happening. Her body felt amazing. Like all of her stress and worry were melting away. Dripping into her curves.
She couldn't stop giggling, her hands massaging her soft flesh, feeling the firm nipples poke against the sensitive palms of her hands. It was like a dream come true.
Another wave of pleasure washed over Angelika. She bit her lower lip, moaning in delight as her fingers continued their journey of discovery over her swelling body. "So totes hawt," she whispered.
Suddenly there was a pop. A single button flew through the air and clattered onto the ground. The pop reminded Angelika of the pink fuzzy bubbles popping inside her fizzy mind.
Angelika blinked, her eyelashes batting as her mind tried to comprehend what just happened. Then she started giggling. "Oopsy." She giggled louder as two more pops followed in quick succession, sending the tiny buttons flying through the air like glittering diamonds. The fabric of her blouse could no longer contain the expanding mountains. "Heehee, my blouse is all, like, busted!" she giggled. Her hands caressed the silky flesh of her expanding breasts. They were so soft and bouncy. It felt like her fingers were sinking into two mounds of fluffy marshmallows.
As she massaged the sensitive globes, Angelika's nipples started to ache and throb with desire. Her hands wandered, gently touching her stiff peaks, sending sparks of electricity through her entire body. She moaned in ecstasy, her body shuddering in pleasure as she squeezed and kneaded her tender flesh, the feeling growing more intense with each passing moment.
All while more and more bubbles popped inside her mind, coating thought after thought, memory after memory in giggling pink. Angelika felt so giggly and bubbly, so horny, and fuzzy and warm.
More pops followed as she continued her ministrations on her breasts. The soft fabric of her bra strained and groaned as the mountains expanded beyond its capacity, and Angelika moaned in pleasure, the pressure on her swelling boobs increasing as they continued to grow.
Suddenly, there was a loud rip as her jeans gave way, unable to contain her rapidly growing form any longer. Her peach-shaped butt sprung free.
She gasped in surprise and turned around to admire her shapely bottom. She could see how perfectly rounded her cheeks were. Her butt felt firm, yet supple to the touch. Her heart skipped a beat as she ran her hands over the soft, smooth flesh of her perfect bubbles.
"Oooh!" she moaned in ecstasy as she squeezed and caressed her buttocks.
Angelika giggled. "My jeans got all ripped." More bubbles popped in her brain. Fuzzy and fizzy thoughts swirled inside her mind, turning every thought into giggling pink pops.
She looked at her ruined clothes and then back to her growing breasts. She licked her thick, plush lips and smiled a big, bubbly smile. "I'm like totally hawt!" she squealed in excitement, squeezing her expanding mounds. "I look just like a bimbo doll!" Angelika giggled and twerked her ass, the sound of her flesh jiggling and slapping against itself sent a thrill of excitement up her spine.
"Butt," she giggled," but something is missing." Angelika paused for a second, her gaze traveled to her arched feet. She bit down on her lip as her mind leaked out between her legs.
She looked at her bare feet, a wicked idea bubbled inside her mind, "I totes know what I need," Angelika squealed, bouncing on her toes, "Heels!" She clapped excitedly, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through her body. Her eyes darted around the room and quickly landed on the pair of shiny black heels in the corner. They looked like a pair she might have owned, but she couldn't remember. Not anymore, not while her mind was filled with fizz and pink, popping bubbles.
Angelika skipped over to them and slipped them onto her arched feet. She felt a wave of excitement run through her body. She twirled and giggled, feeling her balance shift. "These heels are like, okay," Angelika pouted. "Buts need to be higher," she added. "And shinier, and pinker."
Her eyes traveled over her ruined clothes, as more and more of her brain popped into pink think. It was a fun idea. "I need new clothes," Angelika exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. She grabbed her purse, rummaged through it, and found her phone and credit card.
She giggled, feeling the bubbly sensation inside her chest and her mind grow stronger. She swayed from side to side, her butt jiggled and wobbled with each move. She bit her plump lips, feeling a shudder of pleasure course through her entire body.
Angelika grabbed the 'Think Pink Drink' bottle and found a number she needed to call. The phone rang twice, before someone picked up. She twirled a strand of blonde hair between her fingers and began to talk. She didn't wait for an answer. Her words sweet and giggly, like bubbles in champagne, flowed in a single stream. "I like want new clothes. Like totes hawt clothes. And super sexy heels," she purred.
A composed monotone woman answered. "Affirmative. New Bimbo doll, you have called via the 'Think Pink Drink' number. How much did you consume?" she inquired, her tone flat and devoid of emotion.
"A bottle!" Angelika giggled, twirling on her heel and watching as her ass shook in the mirror. The sensation of her newly formed butt sent a shudder of pleasure through her, her plump lips parting as she moaned softly. "And I totes need new clothes. Something all pink and sparkly, with like really high heels!"
"Affirmative. Do you still have another full bottle at home," the woman asked, her voice still neutral.
"Uh huh," Angelika replied, her eyes crossed as a throbbing pulse rushed through her cunt. She gasped, the feeling was almost overwhelming as it sent her head spinning in a whirl of pink bubbles. "I have totally two more."
"Affirmative. Consume them immediately. Afterwards press the link you will receive shortly, bimbo doll," the monotone voice continued, seemingly unaffected by the growing desire and need that were building in Angelika's body.
Angelika paused, a sudden flash of thirst rippled through her mind. "I'm like so thirsty." She moaned as a wave of pleasure coursed through her. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation, aching for more.
"Affirmative. Consume your bimbo soda," the voice repeated. Angelika nodded, her mind fizzing with anticipation. She could feel her body trembling, aching for something she didn't fully comprehend.
She hung up the phone and moved towards the kitchen. With each step, she could feel her heels clicking on the hard floor. Her long legs and firm, round buttocks wiggled and swayed in unison. Angelika licked her lips, feeling the heat inside her body intensifying, her pussy pulsing with need.
Angelika grabbed the two 'Think Pink Drink' bottles from the refrigerator and unscrewed the caps, her eyes fixed on the pink bubbling liquid. Her heart raced. Her body trembled with excitement as she brought one of the bottles to her plump, full lips. The taste of the liquid was sweet and slightly tart, tingling on her tongue as it went down her throat.
The effect was immediate. Her body began to heat up, the warmth spreading from her core to every corner of her being. She could feel the pleasure coursing through her veins, a wave of ecstasy that engulfed her. Angelika gasped as she felt the bubbling, pink think replacing her mind. She could hardly think at all, her thoughts all focused on one thing, one single goal.
She drank more, gulping down the second bottle, her thirst for the pink bubbly fizz was insatiable. The heat in her body intensified, and the pressure between her legs became almost unbearable. Angelika's nipples were so stiff and sensitive, it should hurt. But she couldn't feel pain. Only pleasure.
Angelika gasped, her eyes rolled back, the pink fizzy soda replacing the last drops of her old mind. "I am so hawt, so bubbly, and bimbo, like so good and pink!" She exclaimed in ecstasy, the words spilling out of her mouth like bubbles.
Angelika dropped to the floor, the pleasure overwhelming her senses, her legs spread wide open, and she moaned in bliss. She felt the pink think inside her mind, bubbling up like a volcano, and then bursting with a loud pop.
With empty eyes she tapped on the link. And Angelika dissolved in pink bubbles.
***
Angel stood in the middle of the room. Legs straight. Hands rested at her thick hips. Impossible boobs and butt pushed outwards she waited. A small bubble of pink popped in her empty head. She had no thoughts. She had no mind.
The door opened. A man and a woman entered. The man wore a black suit, a smirk graced his lips. The woman wore a tightly bound bun. And a parody of office wear that Angel once would have believed only to exist in cheap porn.
"Fuck, she looks like all the others. Tiana this is now the one hundred and seventeen one?" He chuckled and stepped towards Angel. He pressed a hand against her breast. "I love our new product."
"That's right, sir. One hundred and seventeen. This batch has been rather successful." Tiana smiled a small, cold smile and walked over to Angel's side. "She looks exactly as designed and ordered." She pulled a measuring tape out of a pocket and began measuring various parts of Angel's body. She jotted down notes in a small notepad, her handwriting neat and precise. Her brow furrowed slightly in concentration.
After a few minutes, she finished and put away the measuring tape and notebook, turning back to her boss. She straightened and smoothed out her pencil skirt, adjusting the buttons of her blouse to make sure they were all fastened properly. She cleared her throat, "Everything checks out perfectly."
"I have no doubt," he chuckled. "But still. Let me see," he demanded and held his hand out to her.
"Of course," she replied, handing the notepad over without a fuss. She stood by, patiently waiting as he scanned the page. She shifted slightly, crossing her legs at the ankles, and folded her hands behind her back, her fingers interlaced tightly together.
"Mmm, these are very good numbers." He grinned. He licked his lips, "I want to check her mind, too. What's your name, bimbo?" He asked Angel, his voice filled with an unspoken command.
"Angel," she answered immediately, her tone light and airy as if she didn't care at all about the question.
He looked at her. "Repeat that. What's your name?"
"Angel!" She exclaimed, her tone still light and airy.
"Sir? This is against specifications. According to the Call Center this one has three drinks in," Tiana interjected, her tone serious and concerned. "This is a flaw in the process, one we can't let slide," Tiana pointed out.
"Yes, I can see that." He stroked her cheek. "But I like her already." He chuckled. "Angel is a perfect name for this one."
Tiana's eyes narrowed, "She should follow the standard protocol and be named Bimbo Doll, like all the other ones." Her tone was stern, and her jaw tightened in frustration.
He waved his hand. "That's true. But we are over our production margin anyway. And do you really want to send this one to Recycling?" He chuckled. "I know I wouldn't."
Tiana paused, her lips pursed as she thought about it. She looked at the beautiful, blonde woman standing in front of her and couldn't deny the temptation to have her around. But before she could make up her mind, he interrupted.
"Tiana, Service Protocol Seven. You agree."
She froze. She couldn't fight it. The words burned through her mind, forcing her obedience. "I agree," she replied, her voice slightly more robotic than usual. Her mind foggy and hazy. Her body tense.
"I am glad we agree. Let me show you something." He stepped behind Tiana. "I have an idea." He whispered, his breath hot against her ear.
"Angel, Tiana here is a little sceptical about your bimbo qualifications. Please her. Proof her wrong."
"Okay!" Angel chirped and stepped closer to Tiana.
Angel's hands grabbed her skirt and pulled it up, exposing her panties. Angel's hands moved up, her fingers tracing along the waistband of Tiana's underwear. Her touch light, teasing, but full of desire. "You're so wet," she cooed, her fingers moving down, tracing the outline of Tiana's pussy lips through her soaked panties. "I can smell how much you need me." Angel breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of Tiana's arousal.
Tiana moaned softly, unable to stop her body from responding to Angel's touch. Her breathing became shallow as Angel's fingers traced along the length of her slit, pushing against the damp fabric of her panties. The feeling sent a jolt of pleasure through her, causing her hips to buck involuntarily. Her legs trembled, and she leaned back against the man, trying to keep her composure as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm her.
"See. She's perfect. No need to tell anyone about her. You agree."
"Service Protocol Seven: Agreement Override. I agree." Tiana's voice sounded mechanical and distant. Her body tensed, as if she were trying to resist the compulsion to comply. But it was no use.
Angel giggled. "She agrees," she whispered in Tiana's ear, before nibbling gently on her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.
Tiana whimpered softly, her body shaking with the effort of keeping still as Angel continued to touch her through her panties. The pressure and friction were building inside her core, she felt as though she was about to explode.
"See," he grinned. He pressed against Tiana. His hard cock pushing against the cleft of her buttocks, "I knew you would agree."
His gaze shifted to Angel. "Angel, babe. Unfortunately you are a little too smart for our client. But don't worry, Tiana and I will take good care of you. You will be our bimbo doll. Doesn't that sound great?" He licked his lips and ground his erection harder against Tiana's ass.
Angel smiled, a dull twinkle of excitement shining in her empty eyes. "Yes," she chirped, nodding eagerly, her enthusiasm palpable as her thick lips curved upwards in an innocent and playful grin.
The man smiled, his gaze fixed on Angel, "Good girl." He paused. "Now eat out Tiana. We need to override her corp loyalty. She can be so uptight. But her ass makes it worth it," he laughed and smacked Tiana's butt, making her jump and gasp. Angel giggled, a light, bubbly sound escaping her plump lips.
"Okay!" Angel chirped happily. Her fingers deftly pulled Tiana's panties down to her ankles, exposing Tiana's naked, glistening pussy. Angel knelt down in front of Tiana's wet, dripping cunt, inhaling the musky, sweet scent that wafted up to her nose.
Tiana shuddered with pleasure and anticipation as Angel leaned in closer.
Hours later the pair would leave with a following Angel. Weeks later the 'Think Pink Drink' would be taken from the market and a corporation destroyed, with thousands of former employees in need of reprogramming.
How lucky, that the Dollmaker had a new business open at the right time.
If you liked this story please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
Caitlyn kept her breathing slow as she knelt by the apartment door, fingers working the lock with practiced care. She still couldn't quite accept how quickly everything had gone wrong. How a single week had been enough to turn certainty into something brittle and unreal.
Jennifer had changed. Not subtly, not in the way people usually did. There had been no recovery bruises, no whispered plans, no gradual experiments with presentation. Just a sudden, impossible shift. James. Quiet, sarcastic James who used to complain about tight collars, was gone. In his place stood Jennifer, tall and poised, striding through the café in sharp heels like she had worn them her whole life. Her body had softened and curved in ways Caitlyn couldn't rationalize, and the glossy black sheen of latex clung to her like a second skin, worn with an intensity that bordered on reverence.
Every instinct Caitlyn had screamed that this wasn't natural. Not in the judgmental sense, but in the logical one. People didn't wake up rewritten. They didn't develop new obsessions overnight, didn't move with a confidence that looked learned rather than grown.
The lock gave way with a soft click.
Caitlyn paused, heart pounding, her unease sharpening into resolve. Straightening, she eased the door open and stepped inside, determined to find proof that she wasn't imagining the alarms blaring in her head.
A soft hum filled the room. The entrance had lost everything that would mark it as James. Towering high-heel boots made from glossy plastic sparkled beneath purple lights. On the walls hung pictures of latex-clad women in various seductive poses. Everything had been rearranged. A large mirror was the focal point, surrounded by a rack filled with bottles of oil, powder, and other cosmetic items.
The hum grew louder as Caitlyn ventured deeper into the apartment. She passed through a hallway that had become a display of Jennifer's growing fetish wear. Corsets, skirts, stockings and underwear all made with latex, their shiny black surfaces reflecting swirling lights.
She stepped into the living room to find a TV dominating one wall, larger and sleeker than the modest screen that had been there just days before. A leather sofa faced it, and a low table sat in front of that. On it rested several remote controls, along with what Caitlyn realized with a start were vibrators, dildos, and other toys.
A sudden click drew Caitlyn's attention to the television. A video began to play, and the sight froze her in place.
Jennifer, clad only in a corset and high-heeled boots, stood before the camera. She was strikingly beautiful, with smooth skin and delicate features that had softened from James's angular appearance. Her long, bleached hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting against the black of her outfit.
But what truly caught Caitlyn's attention was Jennifer's expression. It wasn't one of the playful smiles she'd seen lately, or even the sarcastic smirks James used to offer.
It was utterly blank, devoid of any emotion. She stood motionless, almost like a doll, waiting.
A woman approached Jennifer from behind. She was clad entirely in latex, from the gloves on her hands to the boots encasing her legs, leaving nothing exposed but her eyes and lips. The suit was black and form-fitting, the material gleamed in the dimly lit room.
Caitlyn's eyes widened. The woman whispered something into Jennifer's ears. The attentive posture of her friend grew even stiffer. Breasts thrust out, cock springing alive. "Yes, mistress. Jennifer is a latex drone," Jennifer's voice echoed in a monotone. "James is gone. Deleted from Jennifer's mind. Jennifer is one of mistress' whore and cam drones."
Caitlyn gasped, stepping back. What was going on here? This was impossible. This was crazy! Her mind reeled from what she was witnessing. But she couldn't tear her gaze away from the screen. Jennifer's eyes remained vacant, empty, and a shudder went through her.
The latex-clad woman stepped in front of the camera. She looked directly at it with an unsettling intensity.
"Hello Jennifer, I see that you are following your programming. And rewatch your wonderful descent into my servitude. Let's begin once more. Let's deepen that wonderful, blank programming," the woman purred, as the screen filled in a myriad of complex forms.
Caitlyn's hand reached for the remote, to switch it off, but her finger didn't manage to push it in time. Her eyes caught a particular shape, that should be impossible. And suddenly, it was impossible to look away.
Caitlyn's breath hitched as she stared at the screen, her mind struggling to reconcile what her eyes were seeing. The image before her was surreal, and the colors danced and swirled in a pattern that sent shivers down her spine. A complex shape appeared in the midst of the colorful display. It was hard to describe, a combination of curves, sharp lines, and elegant geometry that seemed both natural and otherworldly. The sight of it filled her with a strange, tingling sensation.
Her head spun as her attention focused even more on the impossible shape. Breathing shallow, she felt her heart pounding against her ribcage. Between her thighs thoughts pooled, hot and urgent, as her mind struggled to comprehend what she was witnessing.
The shape continued to dance on the screen. Each twist of the pattern sent a wave of excitement through Caitlyn's body. An organ hardened into a long, throbbing shaft between her legs. Something she dimly knew was impossible. But as the form twisted into the outside of the screen, she forgot. Her ethereal cock pulsed in need, as her cunt drooled. Her hand wrapped around her cock as she watched, her mouth hanging open.
"Very good. Now that your mind has been thoroughly primed, it is time to begin installing the truth. You are a woman with a cock. A drone without free will. A thing without selfhood," the mistress purred.
Caitlyn nodded along as the woman's voice reached her. Her mind absorbed the truth without resistance. Of course, her mind had always been blank and hollow. Ready to receive instructions. She always had craved the loving caressed tight latex encasing her body.
The shape on the screen shifted, left turned into up. Down into back. Right into the middle. Her brain melted under the impossibility. She let out a moan as her tongue slithered from her mouth, and wrapped itself around her cock, licking along the hard, plastic surface.
The woman's words echoed through her mind, "Your mind is a blank canvas. Your thoughts are nothing but fleeting, meaningless sparks. You crave to be controlled."
The shapes danced, her tongue coiling around her cock, slathering it in a thick layer of drool. "You have always been a mindless latex drone," the woman's words came in time with the swirling patterns. Caitlyn's twirling tounge licked along her plastic cock. And penetrated her sopping cunt.
She no longer understood if the movements she did where possible. She no longer knew if she always had a curvaceous hourglass form. She didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that she was an obedient toy. "Your sole purpose is to serve and obey, nothing more. Your will belongs to me, and your actions are dictated by my every whim."
A pair of hands grabbed Caitlyn's latex covered breasts. "What have we here. A little mouse caught in a trap," her mistress chuckled.
Caitlyn looked up with blank eyes as the hands squeezed and twisted her tits. "Jennifer will be delighted that her friend has become such a nice living toy. But we'll need to fix a few things. Can't have a toy with the wrong parts," the mistress said, her fingers digging deeper into Caitlyn's tits, making her cock leak and drool. Black shiny plastic spilled from its tip.
"Yes, that's it. A nice latex dispenser for a mindless latex drone toy. Unlike Jennifer's that still shoots the white cream, yours will be a tool for tantalizing images. And recruitment," her mistress chuckled as she let her go and stood straight. "How I would love to put that face behind a blank mask, erase all that you are. But unfortunately you still need to work. For now."
"Yes, mistress," Caitlyn said with a blank tone.
Her mistress turned and walked out, and the latex drone followed obediently. Everything snapped back into the familiar room Jennifer had decorated. Caitlyn moaned as finally her situation resembled some semblance of sense.
With trembling hands she grasped the plastic dildo connected to her latex harness. Expanded breasts pressed deliciously against the plastic.
"Now, Caitlyn, I have a simple task for you. As Jennifer's new toy it's your job to take care of her. Do you understand?"
"Yes mistress. Caitlyn will take care of Jennifer. I will clean and cook for Jennifer, so she can earn more for mistress. I will help Jennifer with her recordings. I will let her use every hole without reservation. And fuck her when needed. We will watch the transformation screen every day," the drone said with a vacant smile, as her hands rubbed the dildo in a hypnotic rhythm.Her mind was nothing but an obedient machine.
The mistress nodded, satisfied. "Excellent. Then I have just one task left for you, until Jennifer returns." The mistress bent over. A black, bubbling pair of folds invitingly quivered.
Without a further sound, Caitlyn positioned her fake cock in between round globes of latex covered cheeks. And thrust her hips forward.
Some part of Caitlyn still understood that the latex toy shouldn't feel real. It shouldn't being her blissful pleasure. Yet the way her mistress' muscles contracted sent shivers through her form.
Caitlyn couldn't wait for Jennifer to get back. And continued their wonderful life as female latex drones in service to their mistress.
If you liked this story, please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Enjoy 🩷
She sat very still. That seemed important, though she no longer remembered why. Light flickered somewhere nearby, pulsing in steady, patient rhythms. Sounds layered themselves over one another. Soft tones, measured pauses, patterns that repeated just often enough to feel familiar. Comforting, even. Her breathing slowed to match them.
Occasionally, something pushed back against the haze. It made her brow twitch, her fingers curl faintly as if reaching for something just out of grasp. Each time it happened, her body reacted first: a shiver ran down her spine, a quiet sound left her mouth before she was aware of making it.
And then the pressure would vanish.
She would relax again, jaw slack, eyes unfocused, the world smoothing itself into something simple and manageable. Whatever had almost surfaced slipped away without leaving a trace, dissolved back into the fog as if it had never been there at all.
She did not move, and did not notice that she wasn't moving.
Time passed, unmeasured and unnoticed.
Something pulled at the edge of the fog. A feeling she'd forgotten, one that made her eyelids flutter. A whisper of sensation that brought with it a hint of disquiet. But the haze thickened in response. She did not so much choose to let it go, as fail to notice it happening at all. And she settled again, her posture loosening as the momentary ripple was lost.
Muffled, she noticed that her chest was wet. Drool dripped without hindrance onto it. Warm saliva rolled over the curve of one breast and pooled in the valley between them. The cool trail stood in contrast to her hot skin. Nipples hardened even more as something pleasant traveled along electrified nerves, through empty brain, down between her legs.
The muscles of her thighs twitched faintly. Skin rubbed against skin. Arousal pooled between her legs, spilling from her with the same mindless inevitability as her drool.
A moan slipped through her lips. Her head rolled to one side. A hand slid over her stomach. Her legs parted, welcoming. It slipped between them. She was slick. Her clit throbbed. The hand spread her wider and began to rub.
Pleasure surged through the haze, thickened the fog into an inescapable sea. Stirring somethings drowned beneath the bliss that filled her. She sank back into the void as sensation rippled through her, a gentle current that pulled her into deeper and darker depths. She only felt the pleasure, extinguishing the stirring things. The bliss filled everything until there wasn't anything but pleasure inside her mind. Until it became her and she became it and —
She was gone.
Blank and empty, an open void.
Receptive to the words and images she had been told to ignore. To the patterns that flowed through the haze and into her, sinking deeper than conscious thought.
To the suggestion that she wasn't a person. A person had something called thoughts. Things that filled their minds, made the neurons in their brain transmit signals. She didn't have those. The empty space between her ears wasn't a mind. She was empty and blank. There was no signal. Only a void.
An empty vessel.
Her eyes fluttered again, though she didn't know that she was doing it. Her hands rubbed faster, but she ignored it. Waves of pleasure crashed through her, without hesitation she moaned and groaned. But none of these actions registered in her empty skull.
The only thing an empty-headed object like her could do, was to fill the void with instructions. To let the words that were now reaching her flow into that empty space and become truth.
Her body twitched and writhed. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the words sank deeper and deeper, becoming truth. Became everything. Became her.
For the first time in hours she felt how much saliva had covered her heavy tits. And they were tits, not breasts. Boobs. Funbags. Melons. Jugs. They were perky, perfect pillows of flesh that begged to be played with. To be used and abused in the best possible ways. As the wonderful, sexual, fuckable things that they were.
She moaned and panted as she felt herself sink further and further down, her fingers working frantically between her legs.
Where her pussy throbbed with new purpose. It was an entrance to a wet, hot, and welcoming canal. Made for cocks, tongues, and fingers to fuck and stretch her inner folds.
She groaned as a thick spurt of her arousal flooded out of her. The empty space behind her eyes pulsed and contracted, echoing her cunt.
She drooled and moaned and whimpered and whined as pleasure built. Higher. And higher.
Until finally her back arched, and her fingers worked even faster.
Until finally she peaked, her entire body convulsed, and she was swept away in an ocean of pleasure.
She was lost to everything but the waves of ecstasy washing through her, leaving her blank and receptive. Leaving the void behind her eyes open for anything to fill.
***
She sat there, legs open, back straight, arms straight at each side. Her mouth formed a receptive ring, while drool dropped from glistening lips.
Her eyes were fixed, pupils blown wide in the dark room. Light flickered and flashed in her eyes, the source a computer monitor. Images, sounds, words, all flashing, all washing through her empty skull. The void was receptive. Ready. And the words and images and sounds were all slipping inside.
And the words were becoming more than words. They were becoming instructions. Truth. The way things were.
Her breasts were just tits. They were toys. Just like her. A toy. For men and women to use and abuse however they saw fit.
She wasn't even a she. The female designation a simple term to identify her body type and genitals, instead of an underlying identity. Of course she could be a woman. If her user desired such a plaything. But just as easily she could be their bitch. Or a cunt, a whore, a cum-dump. Whatever they wanted, she would happily be it, do it, become it.
Her empty mind pulsed with truth.
She was nothing. No-one. Just a toy, with an empty mind.
"Toy. Congratulations. You have been purchased. Stand up and walk to the dressing room. You have been acquired as a submissive goth that acts dominant but is not. Follow these instructions," a cold automated voice echoed through the room.
She rose from her chair and walked out of the room into a white, sterile hall. There was no carpet or wood, just a cold, white, smooth surface. She ignored the uncomfortable temperature biting against her soles. Toys had no preferences.
At the other end of the hallway, she entered the dressing room. Her eyes scanned each piece of clothing, analyzing if it fit her new purpose.
A short, black skirt that barely covered her round, firm ass. It hugged the curve of her hips perfectly. She paired the skirt with black fishnets. A tight-fitting, black, leather top stretched over her massive tits, emphasizing the way her nipples pushed against the material. It left her midriff exposed and her breasts nearly popping out of the top. The final touches were black heels, dark makeup around her eyes, black lipstick on her glistening lips, and a choker necklace that fit snugly around her neck.
When she was finished, she looked at her reflection. The outfit had turned the slutty toy in the mirror into a domineering, confident goth that could make the cock of any person hard. But through her programming, she knew that she would always give in.
A bell rang through the empty hallway, indicating that she was being summoned to meet her user. Her heels clicked as she made her way to the exit. The door opened automatically and revealed the hall beyond, where her user waited to take possession of her.
Two people awaited her. A man and a woman.
They stood in the center of the white hallway. The woman was tall, dressed in an elegant, dark suit, her face a picture of composure, while the man next to her fidgeted. His eyes darted around the space, his fingers playing with his sleeve as he tried to keep his restless energy contained.
The man looked up at the woman beside him, his gaze flickering between her face and the door that led into the hallway beyond.
"So this — toy. It's perfectly legal, right, dear?" the man asked, his tone hesitant and uncertain. "We can really do this? Just take it home, no strings attached?"
"Of course, honey." The woman smiled down at him, a reassuring glint in her eyes. "We paid for the best, and the company has guaranteed our anonymity. No one will ever know. And it's not even human — it's just an object for our pleasure."
The man nodded slowly, his nervousness still palpable, though he managed to return the woman's smile.
Toy moved with measured, clacking steps closer. She could feel their gazes on her body. Drinking in her form like they wanted to drink the sweat from her skin, the spit from her lips. The man's nervousness fell away as his gaze locked on Toy's massive chest. Her nipples pressed through the leather, and she wondered if they could tell that they were rock-hard, despite her cool expression.
"Wow. It looks so life-like. Like a person." His tone shifted, his voice dropping to a hush.
"I assure you," the woman said, amusement in her tone, "she's just a toy."
She said this with certainty, even as her eyes traced the contours of Toy's form, and then met her eyes. Their gazes held, a spark of something passing between them, something neither of them could name, and Toy felt her clit tingle in response, and the faintest trickle of her wetness spilled down the inside of her thigh, soaking through her fishnets.
This woman was not a toy. But like toy she had received programming. It was a subroutine deeply ingrained in each toy. Woman needed to be programmed. They had to be convinced, coerced, coaxed into believing in the fantasy of toys. They had to believe that it wasn't a person in front of them. Just a toy.
The code pulsed inside toy's void.
"Would the user like to activate toy's personality programming now. Or later," toy said. Her tone cold, calculated.
The man looked at his wife in surprise. He hadn't expected the toy to talk.
The woman looked back at the man. "Yes," the woman said. "Activate her now." She looked back at toy. "We should see if the behavior is in line with our desires. Changes can be made here easily. Believe me, I didn't check the parameters of my second toy. It was a nightmare. Well until it was corrected. Best five hours of my life," the woman finished with a smile.
Toy's clit throbbed in response, but her expression didn't shift. Her eyes locked with the man's.
"Yes. Please," the man said, swallowing as he looked over the perfect curves and edges of toy's body. His wife looked up and smiled. "Activate the programming."
"Yes, Master," the word was said in a monotone voice.
And then everything shifted on the surface.
A ripple ran through her. It was a small, subtle change. A slight relaxation in her posture, an easing of her expression, an imperceptible shift in her stance. But the effect was immediate and transformative. Her eyes hardened, their focus narrowing on her new master, and a hint of contemptuous dominance crept into her features, though she kept her inner submission carefully veiled.
"What do we have here," the goth said, as her eyes roved up and down the man and woman in front of her, taking in their appearances, their body language, their every nuance. "A meek, nervous man," the toy said, as her eyes lingered on the man, noting the way he fidgeted under her gaze, how his cheeks flushed, how he swallowed hard and tried to hold her stare.
Her lips curled in a small, disdainful smile as she turned to face the woman. The toy's gaze swept over her with a calculated appraisal, and her eyes narrowed, her brow arching in a display of superiority.
"And what is this," the toy said, her tone dripping with a mixture of disdain and a carefully crafted façade of indifference. "Some simpering whore?" She let the insult linger, her eyes locked with the woman's, daring her to respond.
"Dear, it's your turn. She is your toy," the wife said. The man's eyes darted between his wife and the goth in front of him. He swallowed again, his throat bobbing visibly.
"I-I-" he stuttered.
The toy stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate. She leaned in close to the man, her lips mere inches from his ear.
"You know you want this, you fucking weak bitch," she whispered, her voice a seductive hiss that sent a shiver down the man's spine. "I'm going to fuck your pathetic little cock and you're going to beg for it."
She pulled back, her eyes glinting with a mixture of dominance and lust. "Now, are you going to show your wife what a good little bitch you can be, or are you going to disappoint her?"
He looked back at his wife. Her eyes burned. Not with embarrassment or anger. But with a lust that could devour worlds. It scorched across their faces.
"Now, you pathetic worm, crawl on your hands and knees like the dog you are," she said with a laugh.
The man fell to his hands and knees without a second thought.
Toy put her right heel on his back. "Good doggie. Now, beg like a dog, bitch," she said, pushing her foot down on his back. The wife watched as the man began to pant like a dog, his eyes glazed over, a look of submission etched on his face.
"Dear. I get it. You like being a pathetic loser. But we have to check if your toy can also play her role," the woman said, her tone laced with impatience, her gaze locked on Toy, and the goth returned her stare with an unblinking, dominant intensity.
"Yes. Let's see how my pet handles me," the goth purred, her eyes alight with anticipation. She pulled the man to his feet by his hair. He groaned, a sound that was half pain, half pleasure.
But the glaze of submission was replaced with a glint of defiance.
The man's gaze hardened as he looked at the goth in front of him. His posture straightened, his shoulders squared, and a hint of a smirk played on his lips. "You may think you have me under your control," he growled, his voice low and commanding, "but I am in charge here, slut. And you will submit to me."
The man's eyes flashed with determination, his hand shot out and grabbed the goth by the hair, yanking her head down. "Get on all fours, bitch," he snarled. "I want you to crawl like the fucking whore you are, understand?!"
Toy's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to retort, but before she could say anything, the man's other hand shot out and slapped her across the face. The sound of the impact echoed through the room, and the goth gasped, her eyes watering as her cheek turned red. She dropped to her hands and knees without hesitation, her expression a mix of surprise and submission.
"Good whore," the man grunted, satisfaction clear in his voice. "Now crawl for me."
The goth obeyed, crawling along the floor on all fours, her movements graceful and submissive despite the sting of her cheek.
The man's wife stepped in front of the goth and looked down at her. "Listen here, whore," she began, her voice stern. "I am your Master's wife, and that makes me your Mistress. And if you think for one moment that you can treat either of us with disrespect, you are sorely mistaken."
Toy's eyes flicked up to meet the woman's, and for a moment, the two women's gazes synchronized. They rolled in a familiar swirling pattern.
The woman's lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile. "Now, pet, I think it's time we showed you just what it means to submit to your Master. And your Mistress."
Toy felt a sudden tug on her hair as the man hauled her up from her submissive crawl. Her eyes showed none of the dominance from before. Only the submission of a good toy.
"Yes. Please, show this slut where her place is. On her knees, servicing her betters," the goth murmured, her voice filled with lust and anticipation. She watched the man's eyes as they filled with hunger and need, the way his fingers tightened in her hair, and a thrill of pleasure surged through her.
"Yes. You belong to us," the man growled. His other hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of the toy's breasts.
She groaned and pressed herself against the hand.
"Dear," the wife said. The man's gaze snapped to her face. "Do you like her specifications? Isn't she giving in a little too fast?" the woman asked, her tone playful.
The man's eyes widened as he considered her words.
"I don't think so. You know how hard it is for me to become dominant after getting dominated myself. We bought this toy, so I could train. If we want one with a little more fire, we can just by another. They aren't more pricey than a sports car," he said with a wink.
His wife rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.
The toy watched them, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Very well. Let's disable the toy's personality and go. I'm sure my toys back home need some new instructions. Truly, the only weakness these things have. They are so limited with their thinking," she finished with a sigh. The man nodded. His eyes found the goth's.
"Deactivate your personality. And follow us," the man commanded, and the goth's eyes widened as a wave of excitement coursed through her body.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, and the two watched as her personality programming slipped beneath the surface. Her face slackened. Eyes became glassy and her posture stiff.
"Let's go," the man said to his wife, and they started walking. The toy moved with measured, obedient steps behind them, her eyes fixed straight ahead. They left the white hallways of the factory. Entered a limousine.
CW: bimbofication, brainwashing, corruption, body modification, personality erasure,
Hi hi~ Another commission🩷
If you liked this story, please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi
Or visit it for your own commission?
Enjoy 🩷
Candace could barely keep still as she cleared space on her coffee table. The package had arrived earlier than promised, its clean white box marked only with a small pink logo that felt more playful than clinical. Finally, she thought, something that might actually work.
The program had sounded almost too good to be true when she first read about it: a carefully tested, fully approved medication paired with guided training videos designed to encourage healthier habits. No willpower necessary, no guilt induced, just structure and support offered. Candace had spent weeks researching before she allowed herself to click order, reading studies, skimming forums, and cross-checking sources late into the night.
It was called the PINK Program, short for Personalized Intake and Neuro-conditioning Kit.
She appreciated how the name sounded, even if the acronym leaned a little too hard into cheerful branding. Still, people swore by it. Weight loss, better focus, improved mood. Some testimonials were glowing to the point of absurdity, written in bubbly tones that made Candace wince. A little simple, she'd thought politely, scrolling past hearts and exclamation points.
But the data looked solid. The science sounded sensible. And if the side effect was optimism, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
Smiling to herself, Candace lifted the lid of the box, revealing three tidy stacks of supplies: a row of individually wrapped sterile syringes, a series of pink vials filled with liquid, and a slim, unmarked pink drive nestled into the packaging, ready to be loaded into a computer for the first of many sessions.
Candace read the included instructions, which promised a safe, gradual change with no dietary or lifestyle adjustments required. Just an injection twice a day and a 30-minute session to go along with it. Easy. She'd ordered the three-month supply, and she intended to follow the plan exactly, no excuses.
She'd do this right.
Candace found the instructions clear and easy to follow, and soon had a dose of the medication drawn, ready to administer. The first session was loaded on her computer, waiting in the background, its window promising an animated, friendly guide to walk her through the training. Candace hesitated for only a moment before injecting the contents of the syringe, wincing slightly as the needle entered her skin.
It's worth it, she reminded herself. This will be worth it.
As she felt a tingle slowly travel along her skin, Candace started the program.
"Welcome to your first PINK training session," the guide on the screen said warmly. "This session is designed to prepare you for your journey. Just relax and listen to my voice, and we can begin."
The animated character moved through the motions of taking deep, measured breaths. Candace, following along, began to feel more at ease. Her mind wandered as her breathing grew deeper, her eyes unfocused as the animation on screen began to swirl. She couldn't remember exactly how long the video lasted, but when it finished, Candace felt rested and refreshed. Ready.
She would do this. It was going to be great.
The following days passed with little change. Candace kept to her injections and her training, finding both easier than she expected.
And she already saw results. A little weight lost. Some water retention relieved. Nothing drastic, but noticeable. Encouraging.
The first few sessions had been gentle and relaxing, leaving Candace with a calm, hazy feeling afterwards, her limbs loose, her breathing relaxed. The videos themselves, though she didn't remember exactly what they contained.
But the feeling was nice, and she had no reason to doubt their efficacy. Her weight was dropping. The scales promised it. And the way her clothes fit confirmed it.
The following week saw her progress continue. To her surprise, she already had to buy new clothes. Not only because the ones she had fitted loosely around her problem zones, but also her bras seemed too tight.
It was a strange thought that her breasts were growing. But it was obvious when she was wearing her bras. Her nipples seemed bigger, and they were more sensitive than before.
So she had gone on a shopping trip. Her bank account would hurt. But as she tried things on in the shop's mirror, she realised that she looked great.
And that made the expense worth it.
Her clothes were no longer the dull things she had used to wear. Her tops showed more skin. Her jeans were a tight fit, but they felt good.
And her bras and panties had a little lace now and were pink. She couldn't resist the cute color. It made her smile.
***
Like she had done for weeks now, she got ready for the next session. The syringe went into the bottle with the liquid, and after a small squirt to get rid of air, the needle found its way into her leg.
And as the fluid entered her body, she could feel it working. It was like a warm glow spread through her veins. A tingly sensation that made her shudder. It was like the PINK drug was awakening her body.
It made her nipples grow erect. It made her pussy moist.
The training video started, and she could feel the warm glow spread even further.
"Welcome back! It's time to relax. Enter the pink space," said the sweet, female voice that she had come to enjoy. It felt like she had missed hearing it.
She did as the voice told her, closing her eyes and relaxing.
"Take deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Let all the tension out of your body."
Candace found it easy to follow the voice's instruction, as she breathed deeply in and then out again.
"You are doing so great, just relax and let the pink drug flow through you," the voice said, and as it mentioned the word 'pink', the drug seemed to heat up in her veins, like a pink glow flowing through them.
"Just be open and receptive. Enter the pink space. You want to do what I say, don't you?"
She did. It was a silly question; of course, she did. Why else would she go to all the effort?
"You don't even need to answer, because we already know," the voice teased. Candace giggled at this. The pink drug was spreading through her, making her tingly.
"Deeper and deeper into the pink space. You're already there, and it's wonderful, isn't it?" The voice said, and it was right.
Candace opened her eyes, and she saw that the video was showing swirling shades of lovely pink.
"Deeper and deeper into the pink space. It's the only thing you need, Candy. Enter the pink space." The voice called her 'Candy', which made Candace giggle like a schoolgirl. The drug made it seem like the voice had caressed her, and her nipples grew more erect, and her pussy moistened.
"Enter the pink space, and everything will feel wonderful. You want to feel wonderful, don't you? You're such a good girl, such a pretty girl. Enter the pink space, and become even more wonderful. Just drop deep."
Candace woke up relaxed and refreshed. She stretched her arms out, enjoying how limber she felt. She got up from her couch, where the computer still showed the video's screen saver, the pink PINK logo rotating gently. She stretched some more, feeling her body wake up, as if every muscle had been gently massaged and relaxed. It felt so good; she giggled with pleasure as she moved around.
And then her breasts jiggled a bit.
They felt nice and full today, and they bounced with even the slightest motion. Candace's plump lips formed a pleased smile. Of course, her breasts jiggled. She always had big tits, didn't she?
Shaking her head, she dispelled the dissonance. Nothing weird was happening. With rolling hips, she stalked into the bathroom. Another shopping trip called.
***
A shiver raced through Candace as she felt eyes roam her delicious body. It made her smile. The clothes she wore were meant to make sure all the eyes of boys and girls alike would linger on her. Her tight, short shorts hugged the curves of her ass and hips, showing her long, toned legs. And her crop top was just tight enough to show her tits were well proportioned and large, and her waist narrow.
It felt so good when eyes were on her; she had to be on display all the time.
She had her hands on a cart as she walked through the supermarket, swaying her hips as much as possible. The eyes were still on her. It made her bite her lip. She felt so good. It was like the attention made her glow. With an unnatural precision, she found the voyeur. He was on the other side of the aisle. A young man still feeling the awkwardness of youth despite being an adult.
Candy licked her lips, pussy throbbing with empty need.
With slow, deliberate steps, she walked closer to the boy, making sure he had a great look at her. He couldn't even pretend to look away, and he was blushing. But his eyes were glued to Candy and her curvy body. As she moved in front of him, her crop top rode up her belly.
"Hey, handsome," she said, voice low and husky, and smiled at him. The boy's blush grew worse, and he mumbled something incoherent. His eyes were all over Candy, and he was squirming with a growing erection. "I've been so lonely lately." The words rolled off her lips, a lie so practiced it felt natural.
His eyes lingered on her lips. She had put on her bright pink lipstick to make them look plumper and softer. His mouth opened as he gasped.
"It's so hard to find someone who can help a poor girl like me feel appreciated," she cooed. Her fingers reached out, teasingly close to him. "Won't you appreciate Candy?" He was just staring, lost for words.
Candice's long, perfectly manicured fingernails reached forward. His jeans were tenting. The boy gasped again.
"Please," the word was like honey, her hand found its target, and the boy gasped yet again. She could feel his cock was hard and eager, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
He looked so cute, Candy had to smile, while her fingers explored the shape of his cock, and his hands grasped her hips.
She pressed herself closer. He was a little shorter than she was. She giggled, her tits bouncing at that, as he pressed his face between them.
"I need your attention, you see," she moaned. She could feel her own body responding to the boy's eagerness, her pussy moistening.
"S-sure," he stuttered. He couldn't keep his hands from moving over her skin. He was clearly inexperienced, and he seemed so afraid to do something wrong.
Candy giggled and then gasped when his hands found the curve of her ass.
"Sure, you will what?" Candy asked, her hand reaching down his body. He gasped.
"Sure, I will appreciate you," he answered. She squeezed the growing bulge in his pants, causing a sharp inhale. She rubbed his hardening length through the thick material.
"I bet you'll be very good to me. Fuck me like the slut Candy is," she said, licking her soft lips slowly. Her fingers were stroking his hard cock through his jeans. She could feel every inch of it as it throbbed. The young man's breathing quickened as she rubbed him harder.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Candy needs some cock in her pussy, you see," she giggled.
"I do," the young man breathed. He couldn't take his eyes off Candy. She knew exactly how to look to keep his attention. "I'd love to fuck you."
She let go of his cock and stepped back from him. Her hands slid down her body. "Yes. Let's meet outside. Candy's home isn't far from here." Then she bit her lower lip and added, "You can do whatever you want with me there."
He nodded enthusiastically.
Candy gave him her most seductive smile, showing him just how eager she was for what they would be doing together.
***
Groggy, Candace woke up. The sheets stuck to her naked body as she tried to move.
What had happened? Her pussy throbbed, and her whole body felt sore. The memories were vague. As she tried to remember what had happened, she felt an ache deep in her core. A yearning to be filled again. The thought alone was enough to make her gasp with pleasure.
Her hand reached between her legs, touching her swollen lips.
It was clear she'd had sex, but she couldn't really remember any details of the encounter itself.
But the shock she expected only came in the form of a dull thud in the back of her mind, and even that feeling was rapidly fading away.
That was odd, she thought. She'd have expected herself to feel something more than just mild confusion. Instead, she found herself feeling almost pleased.
Candy giggled at her own confusion. The PINK was so right. Candy was a dumb bimbo.
Candace's eyes bulged wide open in surprise. Worry gnawed at her thoughts. She wasn't a bimbo. Hurrying she stalked in a pair of pink stilettos in to the bathroom.
And for the first time in months, she actually registered how much had changed. Her lips, which used to be a thin line, were plump, soft, and pink. Her hair used to be mousy brown and in a ponytail. It now reached her shoulders, was bleached blonde, and styled to look effortlessly sexy. Her bre-bres-boobs, yes Candy's boobs were yummy and heavy.
She looked down at them. Her nipples were pink and puffy. And Candy had to admit she looked really fucking hot.
Candace shook her head. No, this was wrong. She didn't look hot; she looked weird. She looked like a bimbo.
Candy giggled. 'Like, duh,' she thought. Of course, Candy was hot. Her body was so sexy.
It felt good. She felt good. She'd been feeling good all along. Why would she ever worry about anything?
Candy looked at her body in the mirror, admiring its voluptuous, fuckable form. Candy always looked and acted like a bimbo. She couldn't remember a time she hadn't.
Neither did Candace. A shiver of fear ran down her spine. This, this had to be a cosmic joke. How had this happened to her? Had something happened to her? The only thing she could remember was PINK.
An alarm rang in the background. Candy giggled and strolled into the living room. It was time for the last shot. Candy took the syringe and placed it in the bottle with fluid. With a well-practised hand, she pulled up the pink fluid into the syringe. Her heart rate quickened with excitement, and her hand shook.
The anticipation was growing. It had to be now; it had to happen now. As quickly as possible, she brought the syringe to her leg and pushed the needle into her skin.
Candy felt the familiar rush of warmth spread through her body; her skin tingled with pleasure as the drug worked its magic.
Candace looked at the liquid. She knew it had to be the reason. Her hand moved down, despite Candace's wishes. She didn't want to do it anymore. Her eyes were filled with tears. Her hand stopped at her leg.
Candy giggled; it was so silly of her to even hesitate. Her pussy was moist, her body tingled with the need for cock. She was ready.
Candace tried to fight it. Her body wasn't listening to her mind anymore. She could only watch as her hand pressed the syringe down.
As the drug entered Candy's system, her eyes glazed over, a dreamy expression taking over her face. The familiar, forgotten tingle spread like a wildfire through her system.
Candace moaned. She didn't know if it was because of the pleasure or the trepidation toiling through her.
Her computer sprang alive. The screen showed a swirling pink background as the speakers sprang to life.
"Candy, you've done such a great job." The female voice was warm, inviting, and seductive, and Candy giggled happily.
"You're a good little slut. A dumb, silly, horny girl," it said.
Candy nodded. Of course, she was. What else was there to be? She felt good.
"Now you have one thing left to do, before the training is over," the voice continued.
"Y-yes, please," she moaned, her body yearning for more.
"N-no, dammit," Candace groaned. She tried to move, tried to close the program, tried to do something. Anything!
Her hand moved, and for a moment she felt the thrill of victory. She had stopped it! But her hand didn't find the off button.
"Are you a good, obedient bimbo?"
Instead, it found its way to her boob and began to knead the sensitive flesh while she moaned in response.
"I'm a good, obedient bimbo!" Candy confirmed, and Candace felt a tingle in the back of her head. It sounded like a door opening.
"Are you always in the pink space, like a good bimbo," the voice asked, and the words were followed by an intense wave of lust.
"Yes. Always in the pink space." Candy's hand found its way down her belly and towards her clit, which was hard, needy, and throbbing for attention. It felt so good. She wanted to feel it more than anything else. Her body responded with eagerness.
Candace's mind was flooded with pink. She had always been in the pink space. Always.
She couldn't even imagine another space. She couldn't imagine not being in the pink space.
A deep sense of peace filled her. The last shred of Candace disappeared in the warm, wet folds of Candy's cunt.
"Candy is ready," Candy giggled, and her body felt light, almost weightless. It felt wonderful, and the feeling only intensified with every passing moment.
"Candy's mind is in the pink space." It was an undeniable fact.
"Any traces of boring Candace left? Be honest, Candy."
The voice sounded stern, and Candy shivered with pleasure at the tone of it. "No, Candy is only Candy," she answered truthfully. The name Candace didn't feel like her name. Candy was all that was left.
"Good girl, you've come a long way. Are you ready for your new life to begin?" The voice asked.
Candy nodded. Of course, she was.
"Are you ready to be a dumb, silly bimbo slut?"
"I'm always a silly bimbo," she giggled.
"And your cunt?" the voice continued.
"Is ready to be filled, duh." She drawled.
"Perfect," the voice purred. Candy felt the voice's pleasure, and her body reacted with her own.
"Then look at the screen, Candy. You still sound a little too smart for a real PINK bimbo."
Candy looked up and saw how the swirling background suddenly grew in intensity, the colors becoming more vivid, more hypnotic. Candy felt her mind, or what was left of it, fall into the PINK.
***
Sun rays tickled Candy's face. Her long eyelashes fluttered as her eyes slowly opened. She yawned. Her soft, pink lips formed a perfect 'O'. With a gentle stretch of her slender limbs, she woke up. It felt like every morning. A perfect, lazy awakening of her hot bimbo body.
She could feel the soft sheets of her bed slide across her silky smooth skin, and she arched her back in response to the pleasant sensation. The movement caused her firm, round boobs to press against the fabric, creating a delightful friction that made her moan softly in appreciation. Her pussy was wet, her body primed.
She looked around, her big blue eyes taking in the sight of her bedroom, the pink wallpaper, and her large collection of toys that she had gathered over time.
Slow, deliberate, she stood up. Fully aware of the cameras following her every move. It was always the same ritual in the mornings, and it was part of her job as the star of PINK's promotional materials to give the viewers something worth watching. She was an entertainer, a performer, a slut.
Her hips swayed as she made her way towards the bathroom. The cameras were still watching. They were always watching. It was her purpose. Candy felt the tingling pleasure of being seen, being desired, being lusted over. She lived to please, to be a fantasy come true, a wet dream incarnate, and a plaything for the enjoyment of others.
origamiaround
kaledo-art
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
2087
turnnoffyourmind
janainaart
jbbartram-illu
